


-Player Three has joined the game-

by Frumious-Bandersnatch (NeverAndAlways)



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: Childbirth, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mpreg, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, Pregnancy, Swearing, and plenty of it, because arin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-10
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-18 23:18:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16128767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverAndAlways/pseuds/Frumious-Bandersnatch
Summary: Thanks for being so patient while I was writing this, GracefullyAutistic. Hope you like it!**Disclaimer: this in an AU. I'm in no way implying that this could or would ever happen. Just throwing ideas around.**





	-Player Three has joined the game-

**Author's Note:**

  * For [GracefullyAutistic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GracefullyAutistic/gifts).



> Thanks for being so patient while I was writing this, GracefullyAutistic. Hope you like it!
> 
> **Disclaimer: this in an AU. I'm in no way implying that this could or would ever happen. Just throwing ideas around.**

Dan is a heavy sleeper. Always has been. At times, trying to wake him up is a bit like nailing jello to a wall. Which is why Arin's been crouched beside the bed, shaking him by the shoulder, for nearly five minutes. 

"Dan.  _Dan."_ his boyfriend mutters in his sleep. Arin's getting annoyed now. He stands up -- which, at nine months, is harder than it should be -- and jostles him harder, then leans in and raises his voice just enough.  _" **Dan.** "_

Dan startles awake in mid-snore, which turns into a snort. When he lifts his head, his hair is hanging over his face. He paws it out of the way.

"Whazzat--" his voice is rough with sleep. "Arin?" he casts around for a moment until his eyes adjust. "What time is it?"

"Quarter to five."

Dan must pick up on something in his voice; there's a heavy pause. "Is something wrong?"

Arin takes a deep breath. "Contractions haven't stopped."

"Wh-- Arin, I thought you said they had, that's why I went to bed!" there's both concern and a good dose of exasperation in his voice.

"Well, I was wrong."

"Are they worse?"

"Yeah...closer, too. Pretty consistent."

His boyfriend throws off the covers and sits up, swinging his legs over the edge. Arin can just make out the shape of him in the dark. "Babe, I wish you'd told me sooner." another heavy pause. "What can I do? What do you need?"

Arin passes a hand over his belly. A little elbow jabs him in the kidney. "Just...keep me company. For now."

"Mm. I dunno, that's a pretty tall order." there's a smile in Dan's voice as he stands up, and the two begin to walk. They're out of the room and halfway down the hall before he speaks again. "So how long have you been trying to tough this out without telling me?"

"Realistically? Probably since we got back from dinner with Ross and Holly. But that was for maybe 45 minutes, and then it was really sporadic 'til it woke me up about an hour ago."

Dan shakes his head and smirks, "You're unbelievable."

"Hey, I've had two false alarms in as many weeks. You can't blame me for being a little jaded."

"No, I'm just impressed that you've been in actual labor for this long, and somehow I was none the wiser. Didn't think I was that dumb."

Arin laughs, then winces audibly. "Ugh, don't make me laugh."

"Sorry."

Dan makes it another yard or so before he realizes Arin isn't with him. He turns around. "Arin?" his boyfriend has one arm braced on the wall and the other slung around his belly, and as Dan approaches he lets out a slow, measured breath. Dan lays a hand on his waist. "Contraction?"

"Son of a  _bitch,"_ Arin hisses. He'll take that as a yes.

Arin grits his teeth and rides out the contraction in relative silence, but it's pretty clear he's having a rough time. He's so winded by the end of it that Dan has to help him stay on his feet.

"It's that bad already?" Dan asks, watching Arin's chest rise and fall as he pants.

"Yeah," Arin says matter-of-factly. Dan's chest tightens.

"Maybe we should call Nic now."

"Why? He won't even be awake."

"Well, better safe than sorry, if it's that intense this early in the game. And didn't he say to call once you started having contractions?"

"I don't want anyone else here, though. Not yet."

"Arin, seriously. It might mean something's wrong."

"Or maybe it just means I have a low pain tolerance." Dan makes an exasperated noise at this, and he finally relents. "Alright, look, let's give it a couple more hours,  _then_ we can call Nic. Just humor me on this one, okay?"

Now Dan sighs. "Fine. Stubborn asshole." he gives Arin a playful thwack on the arm, and Arin smirks.

"Love you too." he plants his hand on his lower back and stretches away the remaining tension. Then he pushes off the wall and starts to walk again. "Let's go. I wanna move around while I still can."

Dan shakes his head, exasperated and fond, and follows in his wake.

 

* * *

 

Walking around the house gets old quickly for both Dan and Arin, so they decide to put on a movie. The hard part is deciding  _which_ movie; after much deliberation -- and another contraction -- they arrive on  _Back to the Future._ Good background noise if nothing else, but also a good diversion. Quoting it is as much of a time-honored tradition as quoting  _The Princess Bride._ Arin sits and rocks on an exercise ball for a while as he and Dan recite lines back and forth to each other. But then that gets uncomfortable as well, so he resigns himself to pacing the living room while the movie plays on in the background. The contractions are still hitting him hard. Each one stops him in his tracks, and he has to crouch or squat to get through them. First labors, according to their midwife, usually take a long time, but...if he's having this much trouble already, how is he going to make it to ten hours, or fifteen?

By the end of the movie, Arin's wanderings are taking him farther into the house. Into the kitchen, their bedroom, the baby's room, up and down the hall. He's vocalizing more, too; long sighs and moans and breathy noises that get more and more urgent as time goes on. He insists he's okay, that Dan doesn't need to pause the movie or go with him, and Dan respects that. His boyfriend is a private person at the best of times, he shouldn't be surprised that Arin wants to labor alone. Or that he needs him to keep his distance. But he still sends their midwife a few texts, just to be safe.

Dan abandons his post at the table, stretches, and with one last glance down the hall, wanders into the kitchen for some tea. Arin was doing okay the last time he checked in; he figures it's safe to step away for a moment. Making tea is oddly soothing. Like a little ritual. And considering the state of his nerves right now, that's exactly what he needs. He fills the kettle and plugs it in, takes some teabags from the cupboard, picks out a mug for himself (and sets one aside for Arin, just in case). Then he drifts over to the window to wait for the kettle to boil. The stovetop clock reads 7:01. There's fog in the air and a hint of light on the horizon; the watery gray and pink of a midwinter sunrise. And a thin skiff of snow on the ground. It's beautiful.

Suddenly a loud groan echoes down the hall. It's drawn-out and wrenching and makes the hair stand up on his neck. Then Arin's voice calls his name, tight with distress and equally wrenching. Dan's sprinting out of the kitchen before his brain can even process it.

He finds Arin in their room, sitting on the edge of the bed with his feet propped up on a desk chair. His face is flushed, and he barely reacts when Dan enters the room.

"Arin?"

"Call Nic."

"What's--"

_"Now. Please."_

Back to the living room. Dan grabs his phone, punches in their midwife's number, waits impatiently...

_"Hi, you've reached Nic Ashby's phone. Sorry I missed your call--"_

He swears, hangs up, and shoots him a text instead as he hurries back to the bedroom, stopping only to unlock the front door. Faster than leaving a message.

 

**< Hey, it's me again. Things are getting intense, and Arin's really struggling. How soon can you be here?>**

 

He pockets the phone and sits down next to Arin. Arin's leaning back now, supporting his weight on his palms, and he spares Dan only a cursory glance.

"And?" he breathes.

"I sent him a text. What's going on?"

Arin tries -- unsuccessfully -- to pull his shirt farther down over his belly. "Contractions are two minutes apart."

Dan feels his heart clench up. "Last time you checked in, wasn't it --"

"Five minutes. Yeah."

"But that was half an hour ago!"

"I  _know."_ there's a sharpness to Arin's voice that wasn't there before. He's worried, too.

"So what do you wanna do?"

"Right now? I wanna be down there." Arin nods to a spot a few paces away, where a rumpled blanket lays spread out on the floor. "This position isn't helping anymore." he scoots the desk chair away with his foot and starts to climb down, and Dan moves in to assist. This, at least, is routine for them. Arin's needed help maneuvering around for weeks now, much to his frustration. It's gotten to be pretty easy. But this time, Arin's barely got one foot on the floor when Dan feels him tense up. "Fucking goddammit," he mutters.

"What's wrong?"

"Water broke."

Dan glances down and yeah, it sure did. There's a darkening spot on the inseam of Arin's sweatpants, and it's spreading. "Ah. Well. Okay, let's get you over there, and then I'll get a towel." he tries to keep his voice even and calm, but suddenly Arin tenses up again.

"Oh god, contraction -- down, put me down --"

He sinks down onto hands and knees as soon as Dan lowers him to the floor. There's that gut-wrenching sound again. He's not even trying to keep it together now, just going wherever his labor drags him. Dan crouches beside him and rubs his back, which seems to help (not that you'd know it, with all the noise he's making). At the very least, it gives him a point of focus. Arin sits back on his haunches once he can breathe freely again, and swears.

"You good?" Dan keeps a hand on his back.

Arin braces his hands on his thighs, flicks his hair out of his face. "Feels like she's sitting between my knees."

"Not quite." Dan smiles gently. His phone buzzes, and he moves away from Arin long enough to check it.

"Please tell me that was Nic," says Arin.

"He's on his way." Dan pockets his phone, gets up and trots away to the bathroom, returning with a couple of towels. Arin grimaces; Dan frowns his concern as he lays a towel on the floor. "'nother one already?"

"No. Just hurts."

Dan helps Arin out of his now-sodden sweatpants, then helps him over to the blanket. Despite the early January chill, Arin opts to wear only his oversized T-shirt ("it's almost long enough to be a nightgown anyway, shut up."). It hangs loosely around his belly as he sways and moans through the next few rounds. They're really hitting hard now. Arin can barely get in a couple of breaths in the sixty seconds it takes for them to run their course. He's constantly in motion, vocalizing even between the contractions just to stay on top of them. Dan thinks nervously of their homebirth kit sitting by the front door, but he doesn't dare leave Arin long enough to grab it.

An eternity or two later, Dan hears the front door open and close, and Nic's voice calling their names from the main room. Finally. He's kneeling on the blanket with Arin now, trying his best to keep him focused. As he pulls away to call to Nic, suddenly Dan finds himself with a face full of boyfriend. Arin clings to him with an intensity that takes him by surprise, but he knows how to recognize the contractions now and this is a  _big_ one. He puts his arms around his boyfriend's shoulders and feels Arin bury his face in his collarbone.

"Hey, you're alright, I'm here. 'm not going anywhere. Try to relax." his words are mostly lost as Arin's moan turns into a low scream.

The shuffle of feet on carpet heralds Nic's arrival. The midwife sets his things down and crouches to Dan and Arin's level with a calm, "Good morning."

"'morning," says Dan past Arin's shoulder. The contraction is past its peak now and on its way down, but Arin still has a fistful of Dan's shirt in each hand.

"I hear things are getting a little rough."

"It, uh...yeah. Contractions went from five minutes to two in about half an hour."

"And you said he's been in active labor since 4:00?"

"Roughly, yeah."

"Wow. You're making good time, Arin," Nic smiles as he starts taking equipment out of his bag. Arin answers with a breathy groan, still leaning half his weight on Dan. Then Nic pulls on a latex glove and moves around behind him. "Alright, first things first, let's check your progress. By the sound of things I imagine you're getting close to delivery...sorry," he says as Arin groans again, then shuffles back and takes off the glove. "Just over nine centimeters. Shouldn't be much longer now, at the rate you're progressing." he hurries off to the bathroom to wash his hands, then begins to lay out his supplies.

"Hear that?" Dan murmurs to Arin. "You're getting close, Big Cat." rubbing his hand over Arin's back again, he realizes it's shaking. He's crying. While Nic bustles around in the background, just outside the bubble that is the two of them, Dan sinks down to eye-level with his boyfriend and tries to brush the hair out of his face. "Arin, whats--? Babe, look at me. What's goin' on?"

"I thought it was almost over," Arin says thickly. 

"It  _is_ almost over. You heard Nic."

He shakes his head. "'m so tired. I'm not gonna make it. She's never gonna get here." Arin ends the sentence on a low, drawn-out moan as the next round begins, a little rough with tears and exhaustion but strong enough to fill the room. Dan's hand resumes its rhythm on his back. Maybe it's a little selfish, but after watching Arin labor from a distance for so long, it feels good to be in close quarters again. He presses a kiss to Arin's temple.

"You got this, Arin, you're almost there. 's almost over."

 

* * *

 

It's snowing again.

Arin labors for another forty-five minutes. Maybe an hour. Dan and Nic help him keep his head above water, but not by much. Slowly, very slowly, his yells turn back into moans, which turn into dark growls and heavy sighs. They've kept most of the lights off at Arin's request, but now there's just enough sunlight outside to leak in through the windows and illuminate the scene.

Dan and Arin are standing in the middle of the room. Arin's got his hands clasped at the back of Dan's neck, hanging most of his weight off him, while Dan supports him with his hands under his arms. Arin is plastered up against him, almost the entire length of his body; his face is buried in Dan's collarbone and tucked under his chin, and his belly is pressed into Dan's midsection. They're still in that bubble, just the two of them. It's calm there. Focused. Nothing outside it exists, although Nic steps in occasionally. Dan nuzzles into his boyfriend's hair as Arin rests between contractions. There's no real break between them anymore, but at least there are periods where he can catch his breath. Arin pulls back and looks at him as though seeing him for the first time. Dan smiles.

"Hey handsome."

Arin just grunts vaguely and puts his head back down. Moments later, his breathing quickens. Dan widens his stance a little; on the last contraction, Arin almost knocked him over. When Arin starts to circle his hips, Dan moves in time with him and keeps them both balanced.

"Easy," he murmurs. "Just ride it out."

Arin tangles his fingers in Dan's hair with a breathy groan. Then he stills. Braces himself against Dan, and his whole body goes tense. The hair stands up on Dan's neck at this, but he doesn't act at first; he just watches, and waits. Eventually Arin lets out the breath he was holding, draws another, and tenses up again, this time with a deep grunt. And that confirms Dan's suspicions. Reluctantly, he speaks up and breaks the bubble around them.

"Nic, I think it's go time."

Their midwife appears. Has he been right there the whole time? He puts a hand on the small of Arin's back, just below where Dan's hands are clasped.

"Arin? You ready to push?"

Arin grunts an affirmative. "Mm-hmm."

"Alright. You know what to do, then. Just try to pace yourself."

Not for the first time, and certainly not the last, Dan is very thankful for Nic's unflappable calm. It's helped keep both him and Arin sane these past few months, not to mention the past hour. Nic crouches down behind Arin, just out of the way, and touches one gloved hand to his ankle to let him know he's there. At almost the same time, Arin takes a breath and starts to bear down in earnest. Dan has to lean back slightly to center their combined weight.

"Good, a little harder on the next one," Nic coaches. Arin mutters something in response. "What's that?"

Arin lifts his head from Dan's collarbone. "Fuck off," he croaks. Nic raises his eyebrows at this but says nothing in return; he knows well enough not to. Arin's needling has no teeth right now.

The room lapses into silence after that. Dan, sensing that maybe it should stay that way, nuzzles into Arin's hair again, giving comfort with just his presence. And it seems to help: before long, Arin starts to hit his stride.

"...five, six...keep going, keep going...eight, nine, ten. Excellent."

Arin groans so hard Dan can feel it in his chest. He's sinking all his weight toward the floor now and making it hard for them both to stay upright. So Dan is quietly grateful when Arin detaches and takes a step back, and he can stretch for a moment. Arin grabs the hem of his nightshirt and tries to pull it off over his head, only to have it bunch up and get stuck halfway. He grumbles his frustration until Nic steps in to help. Then, with the offending item tossed aside, he leans into Dan again just in time for the next contraction.

He pushes as soon as it picks up speed. His legs are shaking, but he doesn't seem to notice or care. His grip on Dan's hair is starting to hurt. Coming down from the peak, he stops a moment, breathes, readjusts, and starts again. A whine of distress works itself loose. Nic puts a steadying hand on the back of his leg, trying to keep him centered.

"You're doing well, Arin. I know it's getting intense, but you're crowning, not much longer --"

Suddenly Arin panics. He cries out, tries to close his knees, scrabbles at Dan like he's trying to get a foothold, all the while swearing a blue streak.

_"Holy fucking shit, fuck, oh my god, no no no no, **fuck** \--" _

Dan manages to get ahold of him, but only just. "Woah, hey, Arin. Arin. Don't freak out on me, c'mon. Where you goin'?"

Arin grits his teeth. "Fucking  _burns,_ I -- is that supposed to happen?" he asks breathlessly over his shoulder. Nic gives him a patient smile.

"All normal," he assures him. "You're fine. Breathe for a moment, then let's do this slowly."

"I can't --"

"Yes you can. One step at a time. Small pushes, let your body do most of the work. You'll get there. Danny, you help him breathe through it, okay?"

It doesn't work at first. Arin's too flustered to listen. But Dan's known him long enough to know how to get his attention. And once he's got it, he holds it there, pressing their foreheads together so Arin can copy his breathing. With Nic coaching him, Arin starts to give small, tentative pushes, whining into each breath in between. It's slow going, but it works. He's got his focus back.

"Okay Arin, you've almost got it. One more, then you can take a break. Push hard."

Arin grimaces and does as he's told, then breaks off the effort with a gasp and drops his hand between his legs. A dazed smile crosses his face.

"Oh my god."

"Told you it was almost over," Dan grins. He feels a little drunk. Arin sways unsteadily against him.

"Can I...can I catch her? I wanna catch her." he asks Nic, his voice just as unsteady.

"Of course. It'll require two hands, though, so you will have to let go of Danny."

He looks at his boyfriend. Still grinning, Dan kisses him. "Do your thing, dude. I'm not going anywhere."

So Arin steps back, propping one hand on Dan's shoulder. The other hand he cups protectively around the baby's head. He moves his feet farther apart, squares his stance, and waits. It still hits hard, but this time he seems ready. First he hisses through his teeth, then, as the contraction builds up speed, that hiss becomes a loud moan. The baby turns and he stops to pant through it. Then one last heave; he cries out again, there's a _splash_ of fluid onto the towels at his feet, the baby slips into his hands and he sinks to his knees. Now he's grinning too. The cord is too short to lift her to his chest, so he cradles her to his stomach instead. He's acutely aware of Dan's presence, but at the same time only in his peripherals. Dan wipes his eyes on the back of his hand as he closes the distance between them.

"Hi, sweet girl. Hello." Dan coasts his hand over the baby's head. Even with the mess of birth, her hair is already thick and dark. Nic moves in to clear her nose and mouth and get her cleaned up. She squirms at the feeling of the towel, but doesn't make a sound.

"I thought babies were supposed to cry right away?" says Arin.

"Only in the movies," says Nic, gently tousling her hair dry. She frowns and waves a tiny arm as if to ward him off, and when that doesn't work, she lets out a squawk. Startled, Arin laughs.

"You tell him, kiddo," says Dan, with an unmistakable note of pride. He catches his boyfriend's gaze. "Arin, she's perfect."

"She is, isn't she." Arin sounds just as proud. He sits down gingerly, then looks up and out the window, where the snow has turned into slushy rain. "What time is it?"

Nic checks the clock. "January 3rd, 8:14 am."

Arin turns his attention right back to his daughter. "Happy birthday, Alia."

"Alia?" though still talking to Arin, Dan's gaze is still fixed on the baby. "I thought you didn't like that one." Arin just shrugs at this, so Dan lets it go. While the two of them watch, Nic clamps the cord and cuts it, then moves away to clean up his supplies. Dan grabs his phone to check the time again. His lips move silently as he counts. "Jesus, Arin. You were only in labor for four hours."

Arin lets out a noise of disbelief. "Felt a lot longer than that."

"Is that supposed to happen, though?" Dan asks Nic, now returning with a blanket and little knit hat. "I thought first kids always took a long time."

"Not always. This kind of thing happens about two percent of the time; it's called precipitous labor."

"Two percent," Dan echoes, and gives Arin a playful nudge. "'Cause you just had to be different, huh."

"Shut up." Arin nudges him back. In his arms, Alia wiggles. There seems to be more purpose to her movements now. Arin watches her, spellbound but unsure of what to do.

"She might be hungry," Nic suggests. "See if she'll nurse."

This takes some work. Once she gets going, though, she's voracious. Arin and Dan watch her eat and enjoy the few minutes of calm, both of them riding high on endorphins. After a few minutes, those same endorphins trigger another round of contractions, and the afterbirth is delivered and dealt with so fast they barely notice it. Afterward, Arin gets cleaned up and dressed while Nic gives the baby her first bath. Then Nic gets a call from another client; seems everybody's going into labor today. He gives them a few pointers, gives Arin and the baby one last once-over, promises to come back and check on them, and hurries out the door. And then -- finally -- Arin climbs into bed, and the new family starts to get acquainted.

Dan holds Alia now, allegedly so that Arin can rest. Which of course he doesn't. How could he? Alia is so tiny and perfect, he can't stop looking at her. The room is warm, so he risks taking off her hat for a moment. Her hair is so dark brown it's almost black, and he laughs to himself. "Her hair's already curly." Nestled up beside him, Dan laughs too.

"Sorry, kid."

Arin puts her hat back on and spends a moment fussing with her swaddling blanket. Then he interrupts himself with a yawn. His boyfriend watches.

"How you feelin'?"

He settles into the pillows and sighs, "Exhausted. But," he adds with a smile, "I'm so fucking happy. I could jump off the roof right now and I wouldn't even hit the ground."

This gives Dan pause. "What?"

"I dunno." his gaze goes back to Alia, who's now awake -- somewhat -- and looking around. Her parents study her face, count fingers and toes, marvel at the features she shares with them both. Arin's nose and jawline, Dan's eyes and hair. There are so many people to tell, and so much that still needs to be done, but all of it seems so far away. You'd think nine months would be enough time to get used to the idea of being a parent.

At length, Dan lets his gaze drift over to Arin. A small smile crosses his face. Now's his chance. He takes a breath, intending to settle his nerves, but the words just kind of fall out before he can stop them.

"Arin, will you marry me?"

The silence is so heavy. Arin looks up at him almost hesitantly; Dan can't quite place the look in his eyes.

"...What?" his voice is quiet.

"Will you marry me?" it's not any easier to say the second time. A small, hesitant smile plays at the corners of Arin's mouth.

"Dude, I love you, but your timing  _sucks."_

Trust Arin to break the tension like that. Dan lets out a huff of nervous laughter.

"I know, I'm sorry." the explanation tumbles out. "I was gonna do it at Hanukkah, and then I was gonna do it at New Years, but it was never the right time, y'know, and I --"

"Dan."

"What?"

Arin leans in and kisses him, stopping any further words, at least for the moment. "Shut up," he says fondly.

Another stunned silence. "Is that a yes?"

Arin huffs out a weak laugh of his own. The small smile is now a grin. "I've been up since 4:00, and I just had a baby. I don't even know which way is up right now." he meets Dan's gaze, and leans in for another kiss. "Of course it's a yes," he says, feigning annoyance, when he pulls away. "But can we talk about it after I get some sleep?"

Dan beams. He thinks his head might float right off his shoulders and up to the ceiling. "Sorry, yeah. Absolutely." he watches Arin sink farther into the pillows, and his expression softens. "I love you so much, Big Cat. I'm so proud of you."

His boyfriend opens one eye. "I love you too, Dan. Would you shut up so I can actually get to sleep?"

Dan makes a zipping gesture across his mouth with his free hand. Once Arin is comfortable (more or less) and his breathing slows and evens out, he turns his gaze to the window, where the sun is rising on another cold, soggy winter day. What a crazy few hours it's been. First he became a dad, and now he's a fiancé...his life isn't perfect, but right now, it feels pretty damn close.

 

...oooO0Oooo...

**Author's Note:**

> If you like the story, please leave a comment -- I'd love to hear from you!


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